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certifiedwhore4slashers · 5 months

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Manipulative

pairing: coriolanus snow x f!reader, past oc x f!reader.

summary: he’s fallen way too deep, and he knows that.

a/n: i am in no way romanticizing nor defending his actions, he sucks as a person, this is for funsies, keep that in mind. remember he’s literally responsible for mass murders of children. also this idea is cliche ik ik. but, if you want more I will do more with original ideas.

reader has somewhat long hair, BUT no other descriptions of the reader. and I don’t usually do that. just for this post:)

warnings: yandere themes, toxicity, manipulative behavior(manipulation) obsession, possessiveness, no fluff, implied/referenced murder, slight blood, narcissistic tendencies, delusion, unhealed trauma, implied stalking, mild violence.

The meadow was where you’d often go. Ever since the games, it was a stress reliever, humming some songs or even just listening to the birds chirp.

After Coriolanus was sent to be a peacekeeper, You were sent home. District 12 was your home. You sat down on the cold rock. You were more of an creative artist than musician. Sometimes you wrote songs, and sometimes you wrote poems or just stories.

But you didn’t feel like doing anything today, just admiring the breeze in front of you. You were fairly zoned out when you hear a twig snap, and turn around.

You sigh of relief.”Sorry. Still have those instincts from the games.” You rushed over, not doing much. Still in disbelief he really was there.

You didn’t expect him to be here. But here he was. “It leaves quite the impression, He chuckled. It was a long embrace, and you say,”You found me. Quite surprised.”

“You figured I would, He teased. “Not this fast, and really it was hope, You tease right back, lips on his, it was passionate and sweet, ideal for a reunion.

“The sun’s hot, come in the shade, You offer. He had some ice, now melted and offered it.”Here. For you.” “Thank you, You reply.

You were very thirsty. The moment the water hit your tongue you were in heaven. “This must be the only cold thing in November, he joked.

You laugh in response.”So, Coriolanus Snow, What are you doing in the Meadow?” You were half joking. You never were fully serious. At least until it came to your feelings for him.

“Spending some time with my girl, He replies. The word My, a possessive tone, You notice. But brush it off.

“It’s unbelievable, You admit.”Truly. But I was surprised they brought me back. I swore It was all me.” “But it wasn’t, he points out. You look at him.”Clearly they didn’t believe me.”

His lips were on yours again, long and passionate. You two hadn’t seen each other since the games ended.

“Well, It was hard to believe for me too, He admits.”Tell me what happened after.” It was difficult to recall everything. The games were a nightmare. Especially the Arena. And Mayfair.

As the two of you share the water, You couldn’t help but wonder as he told stories, exchanging them, if something was wrong.

“Poor Jessup, You say sympathetically.”He didn’t deserve that. It was you, though, wasn’t it? The one who killed Bobbin?”

“I had to, Coriolanus replied.”He tried to kill me.” “I’m not saying what you did was wrong, but I suppose killing is for survival in the Arena, You reply. Snow only nodded.

“I heard the others brag, You say.”So I know. I thought the worst happened. You know, that you were dead.”

Heading back up beside him, You still couldn’t believe he was here. Whatever relationship you had, seemed to grow.

“What have you been up to? He asks, curiously.”It’s been a while.” “It has, you laugh.”And truly, not much. A few performances here and then. At the Hob, Maude Ivory’s an amazing singer like Lucy Gray.”

For a mere moment, You were in complete bliss. And that night was a normal evening for the Covey. Your parents were killed, well, your adoptive parents. They took you in, then Maude Ivory came along, your younger sister.

You became a part of the Covey. Until of course, their murders. But you had her, at least. “You want one? A peacekeeper asks, referring to liquor.”You might need it for your performance.”

“Sure, You grin, taking a swig, not making a reaction to the bitterness of it.”You’re right. I might need it.” Lucy Gray was a beautiful singer, but tonight, let you perform.

“Are you sure? I’m not the songbird, You tease. “I’m sure, and Maude Ivory wanted you to, She sweetly says. Your cousin was always the songbird.

“Besides, I think he’d like to hear you sing, Lucy Gray smirked. You knew who she was referring to. Truly the one who knew of your relationship, but by accident.

You wore a yellow dress, not too short but not too long either, and sunflowers in your hair. You wanted to have a good impression.

You tease her,”I think he’d like to hear you.” But you went up there, guitar in hand. A talent that you and Lucy Gray both had. It was the genes, you swore.

But you amazed the crowd as you sang. You were no Songbird. But you had some talent. And the whole time your eyes were on him.

It made him feel more special, in a way. Like the only person could make you feel this happy was him. Him. You were his, at least in his eyes.

But you did a wonderful performance. You mostly did instruments and stood in the background. You didn’t sing much.

Even though you were aware he was there, you went on, even with butterflies in your stomach. It was later that evening that things went downhill.

You said goodbye, even to Coriolanus, saying,”I shouldn’t be out so late anyway. But I promise, straight tomorrow. I’m sure you have peacekeeper things to do, anyway.”

He smiles.”It’s alright. You must be tired from that performance.” You laugh, then nod, quickly kissing him, then moving along.

You didn’t notice that he followed you. He was quite literally, obsessed. Especially after hearing your sweet voice. Since finding your home in the Seam, it wasn’t hard to follow you, and pretend he was there for something else.

Sometimes, he’d meet you there. Other times, didn’t even know he was there watching. He’d call it protectiveness. But it was really a sense of possessiveness over you.

That’s what it really was.

He heard your voice in your room, you sang to yourself. You sang a love song. That wasn’t hard to understand.

He had a sense of jealousy. It was clear the lyrics wasn’t about him. A past one, maybe. It wasn’t Billy Taupe. He had Lucy Gray. So who could you mentioned?

He was bloodthirsty. Or at least, had a taste for violence. He’d never say it or admit it. It was like he was a rebel. And he hated rebels.

But that didn’t stop him from feeling this way. As you danced and sang a little. Coriolanus defended his behavior, he was being protective of you. That nobody would hurt you.

He had fallen way too deep. And he was aware. You might feel the same about him, just as equally obsessed as he was. But that night, he wasn’t looking for trouble. Not much, anyway.

Someone stood beside him, admiring your singing. “Peacekeeper, huh? The male laughed. Coriolanus turns.”Yeah. Punishment. Not a choice.”

“She’s always been a singer, the male explained.”didn’t have much faith.” He wanted to know how the male knew that.

“How do you know? Coriolanus asked, curiously. “She wrote that song about me, the male bragged and seemed proud.”One of these days she’ll get back together with me.”

You never mentioned your ex lover much. Only that he hurt you, and that he was still infatuated. You were right about that.

“She isn’t interested, Coriolanus says, coldly. His fists clenched, along with his jaw, both from the rage he was feeling.

Maybe it was his narcissistic tendencies that were showing. A feeling of shame. A feeling that, he was superior than the male standing in front of him. He’d do so much better.

And with that, he swung. He could’ve shot him. But it was the easy way. And he didn’t deserve the easy way. His blood thirst took over a little, and like Bobbin, didn’t know how far his strength would go.

He stands back, his knuckles bleeding and blood on his uniform he’d have to explain later. Maybe it was a mistake coming to visit you. Your singing had stopped.

He pants. What had he done? Standing over the body, Coriolanus realized what he truly had done. And what could he do? He didn’t want a career as a peacekeeper; but his future would be damaged even further. He had to do something.

The Lake.

It brought him good memories. Swimming alongside you and the covey. But he’d have to hide the body somewhere.

It took a lot of his strength; but didn’t wear him out to drag him to the lake. It wouldn’t be too hard hiding evidence. His body would eventually disappear and Coriolanus doubted anybody cared about him. You didn’t anymore.

And he just watched. After the blood washed off, He walked away. He left the Seam. He'd come back. But You'd be aware of it.

Morning came, and peacekeepers came knocking at your door. The whole morning was a mess. When you did eventually meet up with Coriolanus, you decided on telling him about it.

“Did you know? She asked.”I’m assuming every peacekeeper knew. The guy I used to go out with was murdered. Found in the lake.”

“We were informed today, but I wasn’t the one who found it, He lies. He did not like lying, but he had to. He held a tight grip on you.

And he wasn’t letting you go.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #fem!reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #reader insert #tw obsession #tw yandere #yandere coriolanus snow

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foxigemini · 1 year

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Bound For Life - Chapter 1

Pairing: OC!Orc x Human Female Reader

Summary: Your life is nothing exciting. Until one day when you encounter a creature in the forest and your life is changed forever.

Warnings: Nsfw! Smut, Orc Sex, Monster Sex, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Size kink.

Author's notes: Okay, so this is my first time writing and posting anything original. I hope this is good enough to post and that a few out there will like it.

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Life had never consisted of anything exciting or interesting for you. As you grew up to be an independent young woman after the death of your parents, you found yourself living quite a boring life. Living alone in a small cottage in the forest outside the village, you worked at the local Inn. Every day was the same as the other. Meeting the same people, having the same dull conversation.

Little did you know, it was soon about to change.

You knew of the creatures in the world, of the elves and trolls, goblins ad orcs, but you'd never encountered one. Their lands were far away from the humans, so distant it felt like a fairytale red to spellbound children.

It was late at night after another shift. You walked through the dark and murky forest, following the stone path to your home. Suddenly, your skin tingled and your eyes flickered as your breath deepened, inhaling more air. Your footsteps slowed down as you listened with great intensity, couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched.

You looked behind you, expecting your eyes to connect with a rodent, a wolf, or a bird, but nothing was there. Nothing but a lingering knowing. Looking onward again, you quickened your steps this time, hoping to escape the constant feeling of being followed by watchful eyes.

Yolmar hid in the darkness of the forest, watching the fragile, little female figure walking the path through the woods. He had never seen a human before. His head tilted, nostrils flaring as he felt the smell of your fear. It was almost like hunting a deer.

Yolmar had never been this far away from home. As he came of age, Yolmar was sent to explore the world to find a suitable mate. He never expected that it was the sent of a human that would awaken his interest.

A sudden crack made him look to the side, his pulse quickening at seeing the wolf sneaking up on you. His eyes snapped back to you, then back to the wolf, his instincts taking over when the animal suddenly lunged towards you.

It all happened so fast. Despite your senses being on high alert, you barely had time to react when you heard the crack of a breaking tree branch behind you. Twirling around, you stared at the wolf galloping towards you. Your scream didn't have time to leave your lips before the wolf was knocked to the ground by an enormous, green-skinned humanlike creature. You stared at the scene before you, unable to move as the creature wrapped his muscular arm around the wolf's neck and broke it. The green beast dropped the lifeless wolf to the ground, its chest heaving with heavy breaths as he turned his attention to you, staring at you with yellow, intense eyes.

From the stories told to you as a child, you knew that it was an orc.

You thought you would die on the spot as the orc moved closer, its heavy footsteps booming in your ears in pace with the sound of your own racing heartbeat.

"You okay?" the orc spoke, his voice guttural as he struggled to speak your tongue. You blinked, once, twice, as you stared up at this monstrous beast before you. His yellow eyes examined you with what you could only describe as...concern? He was tall, probably close to 6,6, his bare-chested upper body flexing with muscles as he breathed heavily.

You nodded at his question, couldn't find your voice as your gaze dropped to his loincloth, your face heating up as you imagined what was hidden beneath. What on earth possessed you to think such inappropriate thoughts in the face of death? You looked up again, your eyes following the shape of the black mohawk on his head, down his pointy ears, and the two tusks protruding from his bottom lips.

"Good," the orc answered to your nod, his gaze slowly roaming down the shape of your body, and you found yourself blushing. Why did he make you feel so utterly naked and bare?

"Uhm...t-thank you. For...for saving me," you finally managed to say, your voice shaking as much as your heart pounding in your chest.

The orc nodded, a smirk ghosting across his lips as he looked back up to your face and met your gaze.

"W-what are y-you doing here? I-I mean, s-so far away from your homeland?" you asked, not knowing where you got the courage to speak. Good lord, this was so unreal. Were you actually having a conversation with an orc?

"I left my clan to search for a mate," the orc replied, taking a step closer to you as he gazed at you leeringly. "I am Yolmar. What's your name, little human?"

You stared up at him, unable to breathe at his closeness and the lustful glimmer in his eyes.

"Y-Y/n...," you croaked and wetted your lips, scared of what might happen next.

"Well, y/n..." Yolmar placed his forefinger under your chin, lifting it up and forcing you to hold his gaze. "I believe you owe me for saving you."

Holding your breath, you felt a heat rush through your core as you looked into his piercing, yellow eyes.

"I-I...w-what do you want?" you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"You. As my mate."

Your eyes widened as you kept staring up into his eyes. Your ears were buzzing, mind unfocused on everything except the word coming from his lips.

Mate.

"W-What?" you flickered your eyes, the nervous beating of your heart increasing. "W-What do you mean?"

"It's your scent. I could smell it from miles away, the way only a mate could sense it. You and I are mates, destined to be together. I must confess I was disappointed at first that you're not an orc. But now that I see you, how tempting your soft and tiny body is, I can't wait to claim you. To make you mine."

Yolmar smirked and leaned down to your ear, inhaling your scent. A growl of appreciation rumbled in his chest, and the sound along with his hot breath on your skin caused a trail of goosebumps down your body. You couldn't believe this was happening, couldn't believe how willing your body was to accept him when your mind was still trying to protest. Yolmar's finger left your chin and slid down the nape of your neck, sending another wave of goosebumps down your skin. A keen whimper slipped from your lips and you became shamefully aware of the arousal pooling between your thighs. Yolmar growled at the sound coming from your lips, his hand landing on your waist, covering your entire hip.

"P-Please don't, I can't...," you begged, hated the uncertainty in your voice and how your body betrayed you, aching and throbbing to feel him inside you.

"I can smell your arousal, human," he growled, digging his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips, coaxing an embarrassed moan from your lips. Yolmar snickered. "You want me as much as I want you."

His hand found its way underneath your dress and undergarments, two of his long, thick fingers slipping between your soft folds and into your wet, spongy core. You gasped and grabbed his big arms as his fingers stretched you out.

"So wet and tight," Yolmar mumbled and started moving his fingers inside you, grunting at the squishing sounds your pussy was making. His cock jerked at the feeling of your wetness, twitching, and hardening to life, eager to fill your tight, little cunt to the brim.

"Oh fuck," you gasped at the feeling of his fingers thrusting into you, didn't understand why you didn't stop this stranger, this monster, from doing this to you. Most of all, you didn't understand why you wanted him to do this, why your body seemed to crave his touch. Maybe it was true what he said? That the two of you were destined to be mates.

"Such foul words coming from such a sweet, little thing," Yolmar chuckled, the sound vibrating through your core. "Tell me, my little human...Do you crave my cock inside you?" At the last word, he pushed his fingers deeper inside you, pushing against your g-spot and you screamed out in pleasure.

"Y-Yes! Please, yes," you whimpered, tears welling up in your eyes as he repeatedly thrust his fingers into you at a rapid pace.

Yolmar grinned and took out his fingers from your pussy, his hands violently ripping the dress from your body, leaving you only in your undergarments. You gasped, wanted to cover your bare chest when the orc stared at your breasts but didn't have time to react before his calloused hand cupped your tits. "Pretty," was all he said and kneaded the soft flesh, felt the weight of them in his hands, and rubbed his rough thumbs across your nipples that hardened at his touch.

"P-Please," you begged, bit your lip at the feeling of your pussy aching and clenching desperately to be filled.

Yolmar lifted his gaze, his yellow eyes filled with hunger as he removed his loincloth. Your gaze dropped, widened when you saw his enormous, engorged member pulsating and leaking with precum as it stood proudly in a curve up against his stomach.

"Oh, fuck...," you whispered, wondering how it would ever fit inside you at the same time as your pussy twitched at the sight of him.

Yolmar chuckled at the frightened wonder on your face. "Don't worry, little one. It will fit. If we take it slowly. Now, get down on your hands and knees."

You obeyed on trembling legs, jerked and gasped when he ripped the undergarments from your body and grabbed your hips with both hands, pulling your ass up in the air. Then, you felt him at your entrance, slowly pushing the bulbous head between your fold and into the tight hole of your pussy. Your eyes widened, breath coming out in short gasps through your parted lips.

"So tight. So fucking tight and small," Yolmar mumbled and howled in pleasure when the head of his cock suddenly popped inside your warm, wet entrance. At that point, he couldn't control himself anymore. Grabbing your hips harder, he bucked his hips against your ass, pushing his cock into you halfway before pulling back. You cried out, back arching and head thrown back as his huge cock stretched out more than you thought was possible. Then, he thrust forward again and you screamed a silent moan, realizing he had only been halfway inside you and he was now fully seated in your womb.

"Feels so good...so good, my sweet, little human," he crooned, almost lovingly, as he started a slow and gentle pace of fucking you, claiming you as his mate. Your vision got blurrier with each of his thrusts, sending wave after wave of pleasure through your body. Soon, your mind became dazed and numbed, and a smile spread across your lips when all you cared about was how absolutely divine his cock felt inside you. You could feel the pressure building in your core with each thrust, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. Then, the orc suddenly pulled out and you whined at the loss of contact, of feeling so empty inside.

Yolmar pulled out and positioned himself above you, on his hands and feet as he pushed inside you again, his massive frame hovering above yours as he thrust into you. You moaned when Yolmar pushed back into you again, smiled as you looked up at him over your shoulder. You looked into his eyes and held his gaze as he quickened the pace once more, rapidly shoving his dick inside you over and over until your senses were overflowing.

Yolmar looked back into your eyes as he slammed into you hard and fast, rougher with each thrust. The slapping sounds filled the forest, blending with your high-pitched moans and the orc's snarling growls above you. The pressure in your belly intensified and finally erupted just as you felt the orc pump into you a final time, burying himself deep inside you as he came. His cock twitched inside you and the feeling of his seed pulsing into you brought you swiftly over the edge, your pussy clenching and milking every last drop out of him. Yolmar threw his head back, his loud, guttural growl echoing through the forest as he emptied his seed inside your belly. You collapsed onto the ground, panting for air and your body becoming limp as you felt his cum flow out of you, creating a white river on the dirty ground between your thighs.

"Mine," he muttered quietly and out of breath as he picked up your exhausted body.

Yours. You smiled tiredly when Yolmar cradled you in his arms, and he started walking down the path leading to your cottage.

#orc x reader #orc x human #orc smut #orc fanfiction #oc x reader #orcs #orc #monster x reader #monster x you #monster x y/n #monster x fem!reader #monster smut #monster fanfic #monster imagine #monster fucking

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bettyfrommars · 3 months

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Dirty Metal Summer

a Dirty Dancing au

Part 3: Crimson and Clover

Eddie x fem!Reader & Steve x older!OC

masterlist playlist

18+MDNI, not too many warnings for this part just mention of losing a parent, hint to an abusive relationship, alcohol consumption, tons of awkward flirting, eventual smut, but very much a slow burn. Steve is in his mid-late 20's, aunt Kim is mid 30's to early 40's, or whatever age you are, dear reader.

wc: 4.5k

Summary: Hello! We're getting to know a bit more about the character dynamics, listening to some of Eddie's thoughts, and catching a glimpse at a third possible romance on the horizon. Preparing us for the wild ride that starts in the next chapter.

Songs for this chapter: Under the Milky Way/The Church Edge of a Broken Heart/Vixen Seek and Destroy/Metallica

The shores of the resort were thick the next day with people who worshiped the sun, playfully kicking at the water in their bathing suits, stretched out in their lounge chairs, glistening in layers of Hawaiian Tropic tanning oil.

You, on the other hand, were still fully clothed, covered in SPF, under one of the big umbrella’s the resort offered with your headphones on to drown out the sound of the screaming children. Your dad was in the shade next to you, absorbed in a book, while aunt Kim caught some rays on her backside in a black one-piece that was high at the hip, flipping through an issue of People magazine. It was the Summer of Love issue celebrating the 1960’s with the Beatles on the front and the quote: “It’s 20 years later, do you know where your love beads are?”

“Don’t you want to get in the water, Bird?” Your aunt cooed politely, adjusting her big sunglasses on her face.

You shook your head, pulling your headphones down. “I think I’ve developed a phobia of public watering holes.”

“Suit yourself,” she sat up and brushed herself off. “I think I’ll take a quick dip.”

“Watch out for sharks,” you quipped, earning the weight of a magazine being thrown at your hip.

“This has been enough excitement for me,” your dad cleared his throat, placing a bookmark to save his spot, standing from his chair, knees popping. “I think I’ll head in, get some writing done before dinner.”

“Later dad,” you mumbled, wishing you had an excuse to hide in a room by yourself all day.

Once he was gone, Kim took a drink out of her water bottle and heaved a sigh. “I wish the two of you would give this place a chance. Look at that lake!” She stretched her arm out, pointing. “It’s breathtaking.”

You gazed out at the expanse of the cheery, vacation scene, bursting with melancholy. “Mom would’ve loved this place,” you choked on the last word, not sure where that fresh pang of emotion had come from.

Kim chewed the inside of her cheek, equally adrift in reverie, when a body stepped up to block the sun, putting her in its shadow. “I was hoping I’d run into you again.”

The body belonged to Steve, and he was shirtless, in a pair of navy-blue Staff swim trunks, short and slightly snug against his hairy thighs, and flip flops. His lips were glossy, and even though he wore sunglasses, he had to shield his face with his hand, squinting against the sun so hard that his top lip curled.

Kim tried to speak so fast she coughed, wondering if she looked too frumpy in the suit she had on. What was she thinking? He had to be a good 10 years younger than her, no way he was interested in—

“Kim, right?” He aimed a finger gun at her, but then he struggled a bit with your name, snapping his fingers to ignite recollection.

“And you’re Steve,” Kim's eyes couldn’t help but land on the silver chain nestled in his ample chest hair. “Did you, um, are you working on your tan?”

It took him a second to catch what she was referring to, and then he smirked, pulling a crumpled polo from his back pocket. “I jumped in to cover lifeguard duty for a buddy of mine,” and then he shifted his sunglasses to the top of his head and so did she. “If you ever need a swimming lesson, I’m your guy.”

“You’re a swim instructor too?” Kim asked, impressed. Steve put his hands on his hips, accentuating broad shoulder muscles.

“Nah,” he shrugged, tucking his chin. “But I’d do my best.”

You dropped your gaze to the sketchbook you’d been doodling in, trying to pretend like you weren’t listening. From the headphones around your neck, the song Under the Milky Way by The Church played and a handful of kids ran by you giggling, dusting sand onto your blanket.

Steve wished you a good afternoon just before he excused himself, seemingly headed back to the pool area. You thought he’d been on his way somewhere else, but you were mistaken.

“I think he likes you,” you swirled a few doodles, raising an eyebrow.

“Noooo,” Kim gave a long protest, adjusting the straps of her bathing suit. “He works here, it’s his job to be friendly.

“Yeah? Is it his job to keep checking over his shoulder at you as he walks away?”

Kim peeked just as the man in question tripped over his own feet. Regaining his balance, he waved and said, “I’m okay,” and then proceeded to put his shirt back on as he approached the lifeguard station.

It was your turn to stiffen and feel tingly all over when you spotted Eddie strolling down the sidewalk from the main house, wearing a tool belt loose at his hips to accompany his denim and staff shirt attire.

From the way he knocked that Lance guy out with one punch the other night, you wondered if his hand hurt. Adjusting yourself, you wet your lips, as if he’d spot you or something, which was impossible from that distance. He cut in front of the fenced pool area, heading for the outdoor bar that had a thatched roof like you’d see at a tropical beach. For the first time that day, you noticed that Chrissy was working the area, carting fancy drinks around to the guests at the pool. Her blonde ponytail bobbed as she turned from what she was doing to talk to him.

She dipped her chin a few times in answer to whatever questions he was asking, and then he squeezed her arm affectionately before taking off again.

“Do you want anything from the bar?” You got to your feet, dropping your Walkman to the towel.

Kim cocked her head, considering the question. “Is it too early for alcohol?”

Eddie was back on the path, his back to you as he got further away, but your attention was on Chrissy mixing cocktails in a metal shaker.

“I can see if they have mimosas?” You weren’t thirsty, really, but you were curious.

Kim decided on a bloody mary and asked you to put it on her tab, slipping you a few bucks for a tip.

The smile Chrissy gave you as you approached was polite, but it did not reach her eyes. “What can I get for ya?”

You told her, fumbling over your words a bit, and then waited on one of the five stools for her to make your drinks. She scooped ice into a Styrofoam cup and tossed in a jigger of alcohol. You noticed a gold, heart shaped locket around her neck with something engraved on the front.

“Is it true you used to play with Vixen?” You asked, in awe.

Chrissy’s face fell and she paused to stare at you. “Who told you that?”

“Oh, um, Joyce, she, well—sounded like she was proud of you.”

Chrissy went back to work. “That was a long time ago, back when life was good.”

“It’s not good now?” You were intruding, and you knew it, but still, you couldn’t help yourself.

Chrissy scoffed. “You could say that. Lemon in your tea?”

You nodded, wondering if there was anything you could say or do to cheer her up.

“How long have you and Eddie been together?”

She frowned down at what she was doing. “Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” she corrected. “He’s like a brother to me. Known him since I was a kid.”

“Oh I see,” you pressed your lips together, trying not to appear relieved at that news.

There was a lull of silence as she finished up and you felt compelled to fill it. “I saw you play with the house band last night. I think you’re really talented.”

You could hear the click of her molars gnashing together when she placed both drinks in front of you. “Playing lame cover songs for a no-name house band is the best I can do with my life right now. Music is the only thing I’ve ever cared about.”

You used some of your own cash to give her an even bigger tip and scooped up your drinks.

“Hey, wait,” Chrissy called after you. She rubbed her forehead and tried to smile. “Listen, I’m sorry that I’m, that I’m being such a bitch,” she shrugged. “It’s been a shit couple days.”

You shook your head, cold drinks sweating in your hands, about to tell her that you understood, but the two of you were interrupted.

“Bird, there you are,” you froze at the sound of Troy’s voice. “Glad to see you’re enjoying the amenities.”

Troy had a green and white tennis outfit on with a racket in his hand, and you caught the way Chrissy tensed and quickly turned away at his entrance. She folded the tip you’d left and put it in the front pocket of her apron. He came up close to you—too close, invading your bubble—and so you shuffled back, bumping into one of the stools.

“The staff is treating you well, I hope?” He leaned against the tiki bar, and it was not lost on you that Chrissy pretended to be so busy she didn’t notice him.

“Just about to bring this to my aunt,” you lifted the red drink with the celery stick sticking out of it. You glanced at Chrissy, but she went to the other side of the bar to help someone else. “The service here is impeccable,” you said, loud enough for her to hear.

You headed out and he kept up, sticking by your side. “I’ll walk with you,” he winked.

“Great,” your smile was a tight, thin line.

—-------

Eddie bent at the waist to sip from the stone drinking fountain near one of the utility sheds and splashed water on his face a few times, combing wet fingers through his hair so that his bangs were off his forehead. He worked the cool water around the back of his neck, wondering if he had a sunburn. He loved Indiana for the fall colors and the long winters, but the summer? The summer heat could go fuck itself.

Water was still dripping from his chin and nose when Steve walked up, sunlight through the leaves making patterns on his face.

“Did Robin mention we need to borrow your van tomorrow night?” Steve bent down to take a sip from the fountain after he asked it.

Eddie pulled the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his face, exposing his stomach and trail of hair from his belly button to his waistband. “As long as you don’t bring it back on empty. What’s wrong with your car?”

“We need to pick up a bunch of Robin’s stuff from her ex’s house,” Steve raised his brows high, locking them in place. “Girl is a bit of a psycho, I don’t want Robbie to go alone.

Over Steve’s shoulder, he caught sight of you making your way back to the umbrella with Troy by your side and he hoped that you were smart enough to know that guy was a piece of shit.

“I work late tomorrow, but I’ll help you unload when you get back,” the tip of Eddie’s tongue rested at the corner of his mouth, eyes darting to you again. You weren’t some goddess from the cover of a hotrod magazine, or one of the metal babes who always tried to go down on him when he used to play shows with his old band, but yet, without knowing anything about you, the sight of you made his heart jump into his throat.

“Nah, we got it,” Steve talked as the two started walking. “It’s just a mattress and a chair and some clothes I think. I told her just to let them go, but it's the principle I suppose.”

“I get it man, believe me,” Eddie once drove three states just to get a rare Scorpions concert tee back from an ex who stomped his heart.

“Hey,” Eddie caught Steve before he headed off in the other direction. “Jam at the Hideout tonight?”

They bumped fists. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

—-------

The movie Casablanca was the offering at the outdoor theater that night, and respective families cuddled on the lawn on their various blankets and camp chairs under cover of generous tree branches. Halfway through, you excused yourself from your aunt’s company to find the restroom, and that was when you spotted Chrissy and Troy having what appeared to be a heated conversion at the curve of the sidewalk near the rose garden. You ducked behind a tree just as Humphrey Bogart said one of his infamous lines on the screen.

Since everyone’s attention was occupied elsewhere, no one but you saw the way Chrissy pointed in Troy’s face, only for him to snatch her wrist in a way that made you gasp. She yanked her arm away and turned on her heel, but then he caught up and lunged in front of her. Whatever he said to her then calmed things down for a moment, she stopped trying to break free, and then he cupped her face as if he were about to kiss her, but she shoved away again. That time, he let her go. Hands balled into fists in his pockets, head down, he stormed off in the opposite direction, toward you.

You stood very still, hoping to be mistaken for the thick trunk of the tree, and thankfully, it worked. You came around to glare at his backside, but then trotted after Chrissy. She was long gone, walking as fast as her feet could carry her along the treeline, and you didn’t think she’d appreciate you screaming her name at the top of your lungs in front of the other guests.

It was pure luck that made you take notice of something shiny on the ground, a pile of glistening gold on the sidewalk.

It was a necklace, a heart locket to be exact, much like the one you’d noticed around Chrissy’s neck earlier that day. You ran your thumb over the engraving on the front and let the delicate chain drag along the back of your hand.

You were sure that it belonged to Chrissy, the clasp must’ve broken during the struggle with Troy. You had to get it back to her somehow.

—-------

“Where are you going?” Your dad asked as you sailed through the living room on your way to the door later that evening. He looked at his wristwatch. “It’s almost 11.”

You’d planned on him being in bed already. “I, well, I ahh—” you scrambled for an excuse, something that wasn’t “I’m going off the property to where people fight and get drunk and listen to metal”. You were 21 and technically, by the law of the land, could do anything you wanted, but anyone who has ever traveled with family is familiar with the tendency to be treated like a child infinitely. He loved you, he worried about you, and you didn’t want him to stay up all night pacing, so, you lied.

“There’s a meteor shower tonight, and a bunch of the guests are watching from the boat docks,” god, you hoped he wouldn’t fact check you on that.

He shuffled some saltines absently out of a tin. “You’re still coming on the boat with us tomorrow morning?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you beamed, clenching the front of your jean jacket closed to hide the revealing shirt you wore underneath.

You raced down the porch steps once you were able, dashing into the night with Chrissy’s necklace safe in your pocket.

—-----

A guy in a Black Sabbath shirt and a drastic mullet with hair down his shoulders moved out of the way for you as you crossed the bridge, and then you had to stand there and take a breath. Robin wasn’t with you and you hadn’t been invited to the Hideout this time, maybe they wouldn’t want you? Surely you could find Chrissy at work the next day and give her the necklace then? Fuck it, you were almost there.

You could hear the shrill feedback from a guitar and then someone speaking into a microphone. Was that Eddie’s voice? Your heart raced. People cheered at whatever was said, and then the drum beat kicked in a few times, followed by guitar riffs, and a woman’s voice singing the Vixen intro to Edge of a Broken Heart.

“I can't believe I could have been so blind

But love is strange

I thought about it for a long long time

But the truth remains”

You could feel the music in your chest. Was that Chrissy? Perhaps it was the “band practice” Robin told you about, but the music didn’t sound at all like what you’d expect to hear from the conservative house band. The sliding door was open once you were in view, with people mingling outside, and you dodged around them, sucking in a plume of secondhand smoke from a passerby.

Slithering through a few more bodies, you stepped right over the spot where Lance had gone down the night before, and then you had the perfect view of Chrissy exercising her impressive pipes on the microphone under a few ropes of tiny, pale string lights.

Steve was on bass, hair flopping in his face, his mouth holding an “O” shape as he played. He had on a thin white tee that was soaked through with sweat on the front atop belted blue jeans. Eddie arched back, exposing his throat, his fingers deftly working the strings on his smoke black Warlock guitar. He had a Bark at the Moon shirt on with wide, ripped out arm holes exposing the tattoo work on his ribs. His hair hung in his face when he bent over to play, a frown of concentration knitting his brows together.

Chrissy jabbed her fist in the air for the chorus and the crowd screamed it:

“I've been living on the edge of a broken heart

I don't wanna fall, I don't wanna crawl

I've been living on the edge of a broken heart

Don't you wonder why I gotta say goodbye”

She commanded the stage, playing guitar as she sang. You were too absorbed to realize that you had made your way forward and were right there front and center when Eddie glanced up.

He wasn’t expecting to see you, so he did a dramatic double take, nostrils flaring the moment your eyes connected. Why couldn’t you just stay away?

A smile teased at the corners of your mouth, but faded to an unsure lip bite when he averted his gaze, scowl deepening. He ignored you for the rest of the song.

When it was over, there were cheers and whistles all around. The drummer with the mop of tawny hair twirled one of their drumsticks in the air with a flourish and caught it, clapping the high hat. Voices murmured around you as people fell back into conversation while they had a break from the volume of the amps, and you shuffled to the side, following Chrissy as she took her guitar off and held it by the fretboard. She had on a cropped shirt with her shorts, golden hair loose and wild around her shoulders, her short fingernails painted black. There were a few old, wooden apple box crates stacked on top of each other to act as a makeshift table, and she grabbed the neck of the beer that was waiting there to take a sip.

Eddie continued to play, wailing on the guitar with precision, while Steve and the drummer followed his lead to the tune of Seek and Destroy by Metallica.

You tapped Chrissy on the shoulder, and she jumped. “Oh shit, you scared me,” she said, spinning around. She checked around as if she were expecting to see someone else there. “Where’s Robin? Is she with you?”

“No, I, just a sec—” you dug around in the front pocket of your jacket, panicking for a moment that you forgot to bring the locket with you. “I found this on the sidewalk, and I thought maybe you dropped it?”

Chrissy gasped at the sight of it and her eyes began to water. “How did you–?” A sob caught in her throat, and she reached out to gently take it from you. She shook her head in disbelief. “I looked everywhere, I thought it was gone forever, I—”

“I thought that was you!” It was Robin, bobbing on the balls of her feet as she came up to nudge your shoulder. But then, her attention turned to Chrissy and her face tensed with concern. “What happened, why are you crying?”

“No, no,” Chrissy sniffed and opened her fist to show Robin the piece of jewelry. “It’s my grandmother’s locket I told you about. Bird found it.”

Robin bent to get a closer look and the two women knocked their heads together, sharing a laugh. “The clasp is broken though,” Chrissy mused. “It must’ve come off when—” she swallowed, deciding not to finish that sentence. “I’ll take it into town to get it fixed this weekend.”

“Give it here, I’ll fix it for you,” Robin volunteered. “Not only can I unclog a toilet, but I’m also pretty crafty.”

“Y-you’d do that for me?” She asked as she was passing it over.

“Of course,” Robin chuckled. “I’d do anything for y—I mean, what are friends for right?”

Chrissy turned her attention back to thank you properly when Steve pushed in between the other two girls and slung his arms around their shoulders. “What's going on?”

Robin cringed. “Gross, Dingus, you’re all sweaty,” to which he shook his head and droplets from his hair flew everywhere, making the girls scream and push him off.

The three of them got into conversation about something and you sank back against the corrugated metal wall to observe. You hadn’t noticed the music stopped but the drummer was in the crowd having a beer and just as you were on your toes trying to find Eddie, a warm body sank in next to you.

“Hey,” Eddie said.

You looked just in time to catch his gaze traveling down your body, but then he was quick to lift his beer to his mouth and pretended to be watching the crowd.

“Hey,” you returned, suddenly full sentences and conversation felt so foreign. You were acutely aware that there was plenty of space along the wall, but he was pressed close, bare arm touching yours.

“They let you stay out this late on a school night?” He grinned against the aluminum rim, amusing himself. He had a second beer in his other hand, and he passed it to you.

“Ha. Ha.”

He had one knee bent with his foot on the wall while the other leg stretched long to show the heavily scuffed toe of his black boot.

You shuddered despite the heat. “So, how long have you and Chrissy been playing music together?”

He hummed, shifting so that his bicep rubbed against you, squinting one eye shut in thought, tilting his head back. “Been something like a decade now, I think? Feels longer. Feels like I’m 60 years old some days.”

“How old are you though?” You swallowed so hard your throat clicked. “45? 50?”

He leaned into you, hard enough to push you over if your feet weren’t planted, his hair skimming your shoulder. “Close enough,” he paused to say something else, but then puffed out his cheeks and exhaled.

He wanted to ask how long you’d been playing the cello, but how would he even know you did without admitting he’d watched you that night from the street like a stalker? “Do you think you’re gonna stick around, watch us play some more?”

“I could,” you were about to add something super cheesy like, “if you want me to,” but opted for nonchalant. “I love watching Chrissy play.”

He nodded a few times, and pushed off the wall, handing you his beer. “Hold this for me?” His silky brown eyes locked onto yours, the tip of his tongue resting between parted lips. “Please?”

There you were, holding Eddie Munson’s beer. He got behind the mic and took his shirt all the way off to wipe his face with it before strapping his guitar on. The next song they did was an original, something that Eddie and Chrissy wrote, and Chrissy came in on backup vocals, while Eddie growled out the lyrics, banging his head every so often. He swiped his bangs from his forehead, wet with perspiration, and his fingers worked like magic along the strings. At one point, he and Chrissy shared the same mic, belting out the words.

He made eye contact with you three times, not that you were counting. Each time longer than the last. When it was over, he came out and took his beer from you, fingers touching as he did so.

“Eddie, I think I—” you were about to let him know you should probably get going, but he’d already turned, chugging the rest of the beer as he went, and then they were right into the next song.

Eddie wasn’t sure why you made him so curious, but the voices in his head were screaming at him to shake it off. Somehow, he’d gone four years without getting involved with a summer person, he’d never even been tempted really. Nothing good could come of it, especially since he’d probably end up being nothing but a vacation fuck for you to brag to your friends about.

He glanced around but couldn’t find you during the song. When he went to check for you at the wall, you were gone.

---

thank you again for the love on this and for reading!

---

taglist: @micheledawn1975@kurdtbean@katethetank@elvendria@spookysqaush86@somethingvicked@stylesxmunson@laurenlokirby@sapphire4082 @kellsck @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @justdamnpeachy @dashingdeb16 @corrodedcoffincumslut @bexreadstoomuch @ohmeg@marrowfrog00

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson series #Eddie Munson fic #Dirty Metal Summer #dms updates #Steve Harrington #Eddie munson x fem!reader #dirty dancing au

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zablife · 3 months

Text

You're No Good For Me

Tommy Shelby x OC Satine

Summary: When Tommy comes into possession of a new club, the Shelbys want to know more about the beautiful and seductive performer working there. What happens when Tommy confronts her about her hidden past?

Author’s Note: Requested by @goodnightkatherine who wanted to see Tommy with a jazz singer men are obsessed with.

Warnings: language, mention of drinking, violence, possessiveness, hints of dark!Tommy, PTSD, mention of a weapon

“Bloody hell, the tits on her! Didn’t I tell ya?” Arthur asked, a wicked smirk curling around the edges of his whisky glass. His eyes never left the stage where a voluptuous ginger haired beauty leaned over the crowd. As her gloved hand seductively slid along the curve of her hip, a slight shudder ran through Arthur. He shifted in his chair, adjusting his trousers just as her ruby lips parted once more and she purred the last line of a lovesick ballad into a golden microphone.

“They’ve got a little perch for her up in the rafters and she swings on it like a bird. Last night she even did an act with red silks where she tied herself-“ Finn started, excitedly.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Arthur cut him off. “Shouldn’t he be working the door?” he rolled his eyes toward the table, irritation visible in his clenched fist.

Tommy leaned back in his chair, studying the effect she had on his brothers and every other man in the club. “Go on, Finn,” he ordered with a jerk of his chin.

As the number came to an end, he placed his cigarette between his lips and clapped stiffly, the deafening noise drowning out the huff of a laugh that escaped before an honest assessment. “So this is why you want to stay in London, eh?”

“S right,” Arthur affirmed eagerly as he poured another round. “You need someone to keep an eye here.”

“On the club, Arthur,” Tommy reminded his brother with a sharp note of warning.

“And she’s part of it, ain’t she?” Arthur grumbled.

Tommy shook his head warily, “Remember what dad used to say, brother. Fast women…”

“And slow horses…”, Arthur interjected with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I know, I know, Tom!”

Tommy held Arthur’s gaze for a moment as he finished bitterly, “Will ruin your life.” He stamped out his cigarette in the ashtray, glancing back toward the empty stage. “I’ve things to do first, then I’ll give you my answer,” he replied, abruptly ending their conversation.

“Go on then. Don’t let me keep ya,” Arthur bellowed with a sweep of his arm. Allowing the king to exit in grand fashion, he remained at the table unwilling to allow his baby brother to spoil his evening or his plans for the future.

———————————-

The passageways beneath the stage were dark and winding, causing Tommy’s chest to constrict unnaturally. It didn’t bother him when there was chatter from the girls, but now it had become eerily silent save for the rush of blood through his ears. Tommy made haste to the dressing rooms, forcing his boots to thud upon the concrete floor a bit harder than necessary.

Soon he came upon the room he sought, breathing a sigh of relief at the glow of pale orange light seeping from beneath the door like an outstretched hand saving him from the smothering darkness. Like a beacon it called to him and he pushed the flimsy panel open without knocking, any pretense of formality forgotten.

“I need to speak with you,” he informed the woman sat at the vanity. The redhead looked up with a look of bored detachment, powdering her nose as she raised her eyes to meet his in the mirror.

“Can I help you?” she asked with a foreign lilt he immediately recognized as French.

“You don’t know who I am, do you?” he asked incredulously.

“Are you an admirer?” she asked with a sly smile. Tommy cocked an eyebrow at her, but she only giggled in return. “I have many of those.”

“No, love, I’m not here to throw roses at your feet,” he confirmed.

“That’s a pity. I like roses,” she pouted.

“So I’ve heard from your previous employer, but there’s going to be a new arrangement. You see, as of last week, I own this club,” Tommy informed her as he clasped his hands behind his back.

She turned slowly to face him, head tilted to catch a glimpse of his shadowed face beneath his cap. “Are you here to fuck me?” she offered breathlessly.

Tommy shook his head. “No, nothing like that," he assured her, removing his cap slowly and placing it on a nearby chair.

“Then this job will be easier than I expected,” she purred, standing to her full height. She was easily a foot taller than Tommy and she carried it with a casual elegance.

“What’s your name?” he asked, fishing his cigarette case from his pocket and turning it over in his palm.

“Satine,” she replied without hesitation, a smirk playing on her lips mischievously.

Tommy laughed mirthlessly, the sharp note of annoyance clear as he rolled his eyes. He took a moment to light his cigarette, the flame of his lighter flashing in her cat like eyes. “Your real name,” he pressed in a low, dangerous voice, taking a step closer to where she now stood.

In such close proximity she was able to scan the details of his face, pale skin still youthfully freckled but the sunken cheeks and dark circles beneath his eyes bore the passage of time. She looked away before he could glimpse the recognition hidden in her gaze, but she’d already lingered a moment too long.

Tommy seized on it immediately. “You think I don’t know you behind a few rhinestones and hair lacquer,” he taunted, exhaling a large plume of smoke toward her. Leaning in to capture her face in the palm of his callused hand he hissed, “Say your fucking name.”

She tried not to recoil, but the tight lipped smile that tugged at her mouth gave away her discomfort. “Why do you need this?” she asked, jerking her chin away in defiance.

“Cos I want you to admit what you are...what you did,” Tommy spat, hand flying to her delicate neck as he forced her against the opposite wall.

Red nails clawing against his wrist, Satine shook her head. “I-I did nothing…” she sputtered.

“Yeah, you did nothing," Tommy nodded in agreement as he emphasized the last word. "Left me for dead," he seethed, tightening his hold until she was left gasping for air before him.

Her eyes welled with tears as they had that final night spent together, tucked away in her tiny flat making promises of a life together after the war. Back then he didn’t care that she fucked Barney first, knowing he would be her last. She’d promised him she’d be his forever. She said, "I'll wait through any storm to be by your side."

It was that thought alone that drove him to dig after the tunnel collapse, clawing his way from the depths of the blackened earth to seek her embrace. There was nothing but emptiness waiting in her flat, however, the neighbor apologizing with sorrowful eyes when forced to recount the man come to collect her. For the better part of a year, he chased a ghost before returning home to Birmingham alone.

As the memories washed over him in quick succession, Tommy allowed the rage to consume him. He watched her head loll and her eyes roll back in the moment before losing consciousness. A low whimper from her pulled him out of himself, the intoxicating sound of her causing his hands to shake uncontrollably. With that, he released his grasp and backed away to the center of the room as nausea gripped him.

Satine fell forward clutching her chest, a coughing fit descending upon her as she struggled for breath. “T-tommy,” her desperate voice called out. The sound echoed around him like the beating of the shovels inside his skull and he turned away clutching his head.

“You’re no good for me,” he reminded himself as he screwed his eyes shut. But I want you still, his tortured mind replied, fingers fumbling beneath his jacket for the cold comfort of his revolver...a decision to be made.

-----------------------

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

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@look-at-the-soul

@garrison-girl-08

@dandelionprints

@thomashelbyswife

@allie131313

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@kmhappybunny240

@babaohhhriley

@emotionalcadaver

#Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x OC #Tommy Shelby

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mikaela-the-slut-expert · 4 months

Text

The First Glance

Hua Cheng x M!Reader x Xie Lian

Honestly I'm just having a go at this and I'm technically writing about my OC. If people notice it that's good. if they don't well😔. So don't hate on me 🖤✨

Mentions of the reader having a veil and white hair, facial scars.

No one has requested any stories from me I wrote this for my own pleasure. So if you want something that isn't for an OC and is for a reader then come tell me and I'll write you something 😋

I keep editing the story cuz I keep forgetting details 😭✊ bear with me plz.

Míngqín means song bird it's Y/n's nickname

Previous part: Tea Shop

__________________________________________________

You've been by Xie Lian's side for a long time. You've been his guard for as long as you can remember, and a god under him for even longer. A very long time actually, so you'd like to think you know him well enough to predict his movements. Apparently not.

You're at Puqi shrine, cleaning the place up and fixing dinner for you and Xie Lian. You chose to stay while Xie Lian went and to go investigate a ghost groom who was kidnapping brides. It's since then turned dark and when Xie Lian turns up, there's another man with him. You weren't expecting Xie Lian to bring someone home with him, nor were you expecting the strange man to stay the night.

The strange man's name is actually San Lang, but you still think he's strange anyways. After scolding Xie Lian for bringing someone home without any warning you serve dinner at the makeshift table you came up with. You give San Lang yours, you don't really need to eat. You're a heaven official and being with Xie Lian has you used to it anyhow.

"Thank you for making dinner Míngqín, I wouldn't have minded making it myself", Xie Lian says. You cringe at the thought though. You wave a hand, "not necessary I've got it". You sit down and observe as they both eat. Xie Lian and San Lang chat about something but you aren't paying attention. You're staring at San Lang, it's strange how fast the man has clung himself to Xie Lian. You've never seen him before and yet he so easily acts as if he's known Xie Lian forever.

You look away, thoughts straying to the bed laying on the floor. If it can even be called that it's more like a mat. Are all three of you going to sleep on it? Your thoughts are quickly interrupted when you notice San Lang staring at you. He can't possibly see your face not with the veil you've hidden it behind, but the way he's staring at you makes it feel like he's trying to. It doesn't feel like anything bad or alarming, just unnerving. People don't look at you. They usually stray their eyes away, but San Lang does not.

You leave the table, and lie on the mat. Xie Lian and San Lang will eventually lay down too. You take the middle spot. It makes the most sense, you don't want Xie Lian to be in danger. He's always been kind and you don't want that to back fire on him. You figure it's most safe if you stay between San Lang and Xie Lian.

You are already 'asleep', you aren't of course but you're breathing and heartbeat all sound as if you are. You technically don't need sleep but it's still nice to rest sometimes. You can hear San Lang talk about the missing painting on the wall. There's not yet a painting of the God of Scraps, but Xie Lian ushers San Lang to go to sleep instead.

Xie Lian lies to your right, you can tell. After all you've been sleeping next to each other for years. San Lang lies to your left, leaving you stuck in the middle. It's uncomfortable. You aren't worried about your veil slipping off, it's yours to manipulate and you've long since mastered being able to make the veil comfortable on your face. It's the closeness that bothers you.

You haven't really been in anyone's company other than Xie Lian's. No one else tends to like you, not the officials and not ghosts. That's fine you don't like them either but this sudden presence is new and you've never liked touch in the first place. Touch is scary. It always has been since the fall of XianLe. It makes you want to puke. Xie Lian is the only exception to this, seeing as you've been around him your whole life.

It's not that repulsive actually. For whatever reason San Lang's closeness doesn't seem to make you want to hurl. His breath down the back of your neck however makes you nervous. If you weren't a ghost your heart would be beating fast. You can feel him staring holes into you but you play sleep anyways.

"You're not truly asleep are you?" You internally huff as San Lang asks. You didn't think you were bad at it. You ignore him and continue hoping he'll believe your lie. It's not until a shuffle on your right, and a harsh grip on your robes make you realize San Lang isn't talking to you.

"It's not like I was fake sleeping San Lang" you can feel Xie Lian sit up a bit. "You aren't asleep either" Xie Lian exclaims. You can't see of course your eyes are closed even behind the veil you're worried they'd see your eyes open.

"I was too busy staring at your assistant" his voice takes on a teasing tone. 'Assistant' is what Xie Lian had told San Lang you are. Xie Lian is supposed to be a priest for himself and your alias is to be Xie Lian's assistant. Of course it's not who you truly are. You're truly the God of Song and Xie Lian is truly the God of Scraps. San Lang wouldn't know that though.

Your stomach drops when you feel San Lang's hand start to tinker with your veil. You're about to give it all up to move away but a big clap happens right over your face. You suppose it's time to give it up for the night. You open your eyes, and look up at the clasped hands above you. Xie Lian's holding San Lang's, most likely trying to move his hand away.

"Ah I'm sorry we woke you Míngqín, San Lang just needed a blanket he was cold..." Xie Lian smiles down at you. You nod, "It's okay. Let's go back to sleep then." San Lang only laughs to himself and lies back down. You and Xie Lian lay back down too. The night eventually calms again.

**********************************************************

When morning comes, you realize you fell asleep and when you get out of bed you see that Xie Lian and San Lang have already gotten out of bed. You get up as well and you change your veil. The veil is often changed, you don't like keeping the same design everyday. Some veils cover your whole face, and some veils leave your eyes unhidden. Today you choose a veil that only covers your nose and mouth.

You're ready to go outside until something in the corner of your eye stops you. A painting of Xie Lian back when he was Prince in XianLe..? Did San Lang really paint that? Now it's obvious San Lang isn't a mortal. No one would be able to paint it so accurately from 800 years ago.

You admire it for a minute and then go outside. San Lang and Xie Lian are standing by a cut wood pile. They both turn their heads toward you.

"Good morning Míngqín", "morning y/n". You nod back, noticing San Lang's hair is loose.

"Your hair will surely get caught if you don't put your hair up, San Lang" you haven't really spoken to San Lang the whole time since he's been here but you don't hate him. He did somehow make that painting after all. "Let me fix your hair San Lang" Xie Lian offers. He leads San Lang back inside to a bucket of water.

You know Xie Lian is checking if San Lang is a ghost, but San Lang looks like he is enjoying himself, "Are you just going to play with my hair gege?" Xie Lian is quick to get flustered and he puts San Lang's hair into a very messy braid. It looks messier than before.

You don't pay attention to the fact San Lang has started calling Xie Lian 'gege'. You snicker quietly at Xie Lian's flustered face, as he waves his hands telling San Lang he's all done with his hair. Xie Lian is not very good at doing hair, but San Lang looks happy with it. You don't bother offering to fix it.

"A-Lian it's your turn, come sit". You pat the stool. Xie Lian cooperates and you start combing through his hair. You've always brushed out Xie Lian's hair. He doesn't know how to get the knots out. Xie Lian used to just leave the knots there until you forced him to sit down one day so you could brush it out.

When you're finished brushing his hair you tie it up in his usual half bun-half down hairstyle. You step away from him and notice San Lang staring at you. It seems he's very good at staring.

"You should let gege do your hair as well y/n" you grunt and shake your head. No way you were letting Xie Lian put knots in your hair. You love him very much but you also love your hair.

"No it's alright" you wave a hand but San Lang insists. "I can fix your hair then. Gege did my hair, and you did Gege's. I'll do yours" he smiles. It sounds like generosity, but you've found whatever San Lang says sounds like teasing. You almost shake your head no, but San Lang looks like he really wants to indulge.

"I... Suppose" you hesitate. To fix your hair you would have to take off your veil and only Xie Lian has seen your face and even he hasn't seen it in so long. San Lang is very gentle when he removes your veil, as if he's touching something that will shatter. You cover your mouth with your sleeve. To hide the scars, you don't want them to be seen.

Your thoughts are interrupted by San Lang's fingers running through your hair. He combs it out gently. "Your hair is very beautiful y/n, has gege ever told you?" This flusters you, if you actually had the ability to blush then blood would have colored your cheeks. You have strange hair, it's long but it's white. It's always been like that but after ascending the officials were not your biggest fans. Especially since you stayed with Xie Lian. So they often make remarks about your appearance not that it bothers you.

"Thank you" you notice Xie Lian looking at you. You're eyes are the only thing that can be seen but he's still soaking up what you've hidden for the past hundreds of years before you hide it behind a veil again.

"How come this one hides his face?" San Lang asks as he does something with your hair. You don't know how to answer that so you redirect, "Does San Lang want to see it that bad?" He only laughs at this, and he moves into your field of vision. "I'm all finished. Gege take a look at y/n's hair is it nice?" You want to see what it looks like. You look into the bucket of water.

San Lang put your hair into a braid. He's tied your hair with a red ribbon, it must be San Lang's but you'll keep it. He gave it to you so it's only fair. You run your hands over the braid. Your hair hasn't been styled in a long time, there was never a reason to put it up after all. Your hair is usually left loose.

"it's very pretty San Lang. Míngqín why don't you keep the veil off?" Xie Lian cocks his head to the side. "Yes, there's no reason to hide your face." You furrow your brows, you could keep it off. You're just scared to have your scars out in the open. "... I'll think about it."

You hesitate, but you remove your hand from covering your mouth. To you, your face has been ruined. Your mouth has been slashed from a sword from a very long time ago. Scars line over your lips. You wished that they were pretty scars, with neat lines. They are not though. It's not so bad to show your face to San Lang and Xie Lian.

They stare at you, Xie Lian's look you can understand. You don't understand San Lang's look, he looks as if he's trying to soak up the details of your face too. As if your face is something he hasn't seen in such a long time. You've never met San Lang though...

Now that everyone's hair is fixed, San Lang is an exception to that - y/n giggles every time he sees it - , now they can start their morning. It's a good start to the day and Y/n thinks that San Lang has fit himself quite well into their routine.

Even though San Lang is a new addition to your group he makes it very easy to like him. Especially with how much he clings to Xie Lian's side, but San Lang also seems to be clinging to you too.

__________________________________________________

Criticism or comments plzzzz, I want to know if anyone enjoyed it or if there are ways I can make it better. I also want to know if people want to continue seeing the story! Also don't forget you can request me for stuff! 🖤✨

Maple Robes and Lace Veils

#hualian x reader #hua cheng x reader #xie lian x reader #tgcf headcanon #tgcf x male reader #hualian #tgcf #tgcf hua cheng #tgcf hualian #tgcf xie lian #notice me pls

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

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I've Got You - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

joel miller masterlist

She and Joel are partners in business. Nothing more. But they’ll both have to come to terms with this lie they’ve been telling themselves when something unspeakable happens.

warnings | 18+ angst, very dark themes (near SA, canon-typical violence), smut

Joel was difficult to talk to, so it was a good thing she didn’t have much to say. She figured that’s why they worked so well together.

She had been in the Boston QZ since she was a teenager, since the beginning of all this really. Had set up a solid business in smuggling, finding it easy to go out into the open since she had nothing to lose, all her family gone in the first few days of the outbreak. It had hardened her, being on her own for so long, so when she found out she had competition from two newcomers, she was quick to make Joel’s and Tess’ acquaintance, knife in hand. If it hadn’t been for Tess’ diplomatic nature, she’s certain her and Joel would have killed each other then and there, two loose cannons butting heads. But, they had worked it out, merging their “business” and soon enough, they were the predominant smugglers of Boston, exerting a wide and powerful influence when they needed to.

Tess handled the deals, while she and Joel handled the actual runs. They could both go days without speaking, trailing each other along the crumbling highways, filling their packs with salvaged goods to take back. She didn’t know much about him, just that he had lost something big, just like her, just like most folks still alive. But they were comfortable with each other, an unwavering trust that had developed over months of successful jobs.

They were wrapping up another successful trip, about two day’s out from the QZ. They’d stop at Bill and Frank’s tomorrow, get a trade in before heading back. Night was starting to slip over the woods and they had set up camp in a thicket of trees. She took the first watch while Joel hunched into the side of his sleeping bag, trying to get some sleep. She blames it on herself, really, for letting her guard down when she should’ve been on alert. But they had never run into trouble in this area, and, to be quite honest, she was fucking exhausted after five days on the road. Even sitting up, hands around her shins, she was starting to fade in and out of sleep.

That didn’t last long though, when suddenly she was being yanked up and back by her hair. Her shriek was cut off quick by a knife being pressed flat against her throat. She could feel the man’s beard scratching against the side of her face as he held her up against him. There were two others, one of whom had his gun trained on Joel who had been startled awake by the sound. Hunters, from the looks of them.

Joel had sat up, holding his palms out, his eyes darting between the mouth of the gun and her. The man with the gun spoke first.

“Don’t want no trouble, pal.” She could see the muscles in Joel’s cheek tick as he sized the man up.

“Doesn’t look that way to me, pal.” The man holding her up chuckled.

“Now, now, no need to get all worked up. Just gonna want some of whatever you got in those packs.” He paused for a moment, bringing his other hand to caress down the side of her body. She shuddered under his sickening touch. “And maybe a little turn with your girl here.”

Joel was on his feet fast at that, but the other two men moved quick to grab hold of him. He struggled in their grip but the one punched him, hard, in the stomach, forcing him to double over.

She writhed under the man’s grip but he pressed the blade firmer into her throat.

“Easy, little bird. Why don’t you and I go have some alone time, huh? And if you’re real nice to me, I’ll think about not blowing your boyfriend’s brains out? That sound good to you?” She huffs as he jostles her in his grip, keeping a sneer across her face even though she nods. What the fuck else can she do?

“Be right back, gentlemen. Don’t y’all go nowhere.” He hoists her around, shoving her forward until they’re deeper into the woods, the glow of their camping lantern just a speck amongst the trees. He throws her down to the ground, quick to straddle her hips, pressing a knee into each of her wrists to keep her prone underneath him. There’s a rushing in her ears and her whole body’s shaking as he wrenches her jeans and underwear down her thighs. The man grunts behind her.

“Such a pretty little thing, aren’t ya? Think I ought to leave you with a little souvenir of our time together, huh?” She has no clue what he means, his voice sounding muffled as her mind continues to go hazy. But then there’s a searing pain in her low back and she realizes he’s carving something into her skin. She lets out a broken scream but he cuts her off by shoving a wad of cloth into her mouth. It’s agonizing until it’s not anymore, until her body goes slack under his hold. She realizes he’s carving letters into her skin. He’s carving initials. He finishes his work, she hears him throw the knife down beside them. He whistles low.

“Even prettier, little bird. Giving me something real nice to look at while I fuck you.” She feels frozen, numb, only startling slightly at the sound of gunshots in the distance. Her mind offers up a single thought like a mote of dust floating in the dim light. Joel. She picks up the fight again, as best she can, squirming under his hold, but he grabs a hold of her hair, forcing her head back.

“Watch it, little bird. Or I won’t be so sweet to you no more.” He drops her head, her face smearing in the rotting leaves of the forest floor.

She can hear him undoing his belt in the gloom and she braces herself for what’s coming, her whole body tensing. But just then, another gunshot rings out, and she feels the man above her go slack, falling off to the side. Her wrists ache where he had been pressing them into the dirt. She heaves, huge rolling gasps leaving her shuddering ribcage as she tries to press herself up.

She hears her name being called through the rushing in her ears, feels a pair of hands gently pulling her jeans back up her legs. And then she sees Joel in the corner of her blurry vision, leaning down to search her face. She lets out a bone-rattling sob of his name and he gathers her up in his arms, sitting down on the ground and pulling her into him. There’s blood spattered across his shirt, but she doesn’t care, digging her face into his chest. He still smells like him.

“I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry. It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re safe now. I’ve got you, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything else happen to you. I’ve got you.”

…

Somehow, they manage to get to Bill and Frank’s the next day. Joel had overpowered the men last night, killing them all handily by the time he got to her. She hadn’t spoken since he’d found her, mutely walking alongside him, keeping her eyes on the road. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

When they met the two men at the fence, they both looked taken aback by her demeanor. Bill later told Joel he thought she looked like a spooked horse, wild eyes not quite making contact, jerky, stiff movements. Frank immediately took her under his arm, guiding her into the house to tend to her bruised wrists. The couple always had a soft spot for her, had been working with her long before Joel came around, and they treated her like a daughter. Joel and Bill were left standing there, staring each other down. Bill asked him what happened but all Joel could do was shake his head, a deep sigh rumbling through his chest as he scrubbed harshly at his jaw.

Bill offered him a shower and a clean set of clothes, which he gladly accepted, watching the rust-colored water swirl around the drain. All cleaned up, he ran into Frank in the hallway as he was coming out of the bathroom.

“She’s sleeping. I gave her some painkillers, to get her some rest, at least. She told me what happened.” Joel shifts in his boots, looking down at the floor, trying to hold onto whatever restraint he has left, to not crumple in front of Frank.

Frank brings his hand to Joel’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you, for what you did, Joel. For her.” Joel clears his throat.

“Didn’t do enough– should’ve– I should’ve–” Frank cuts him off with another squeeze to his shoulder.

“You did what you could. Listen, Bill won’t ever admit it. But that girl? She’s like family to us. Thank you for saving her. You did. You saved her.” All Joel can do is nod, trying to not let the thick feeling in his throat roll into tears.

…

The sun has already set. As always, Bill and Frank had cooked a mind-boggling meal, but she didn’t join them for dinner. Frank had taken a plate up to her before they sat down, and when he came back downstairs he told them that she was awake, that she was feeling ok.

After dinner, Joel excused himself as the couple settled at the piano together, telling them he wanted to turn in early. The room they had set him up in was across the hall from where she was and before he could think better of it, he was lightly knocking on her door.

She called for him to come in, and when he saw her, he was shocked at how much relief he felt in seeing her again. She was sitting on the side of the bed in a worn-looking t-shirt and sweatpants that Frank must have given her. She glanced quickly at him before looking down at her feet.

“Are you alright?” He’s taken aback from her question, softly shutting the door before turning back to look at her.

“You’re asking me if I’m alright?” She just shrugs, still not looking up at him.

“Frank sort of whisked me away this morning. Haven’t seen you since then, just wondering.” Joel tentatively sits down next to her, resting his forearms on his thighs, he looks at her over his shoulder.

“I’m fine. Are you alright?” She shakes her head.

“Don’t– don’t start treating me different, Joel.” “Not treating you different, I–”

“Yes you are, you’re treating me like I’m broken.” She scoffs before continuing, “I’m not that fragile. Thought you knew that by now. Christ, nothing even happened. You killed that-that bastard before he could really do anything.” Her breath shudders as she exhales.

“I know you’re not broken. And you’re certainly not fragile. Made of tougher stuff than most.” She shakes her head at that but he stops her.

“Hey. I also know that you’re a fucking human being. And you and I both know that even though nothing happened, something still did. Before I– before I could get to you.” It’s his turn to sigh now, wringing his hands that rest over his knees.

“Don’t, Joel. You did what you could, that’s enough.” He scoffs.

“Yeah, I did what I could. But it kills me that I didn’t do it quicker. When I saw him– on top of you, I– god, I– I’d rather die than see you hurt, do you get that?” Her head whips up to look at him, finally meeting his gaze.

“What?” He swallows hard, already regretting the words he just said, the dangerous confession he just gave to her.

“Look, I– I shouldn’t have said that, I should go,” he goes to stand but her hand reaches out to hold onto his and he freezes in place. His heart clenches when he looks at the mottled bruises long her wrist.

She turns to face him on the bed, cautiously raising her other hand to let her palm slide over his cheek. It comes out as a whisper when she says his name and something in Joel breaks.

He knows it’s rash, and maybe just plain stupid, but he still surges forward and when they kiss it’s not gentle or sweet, it’s desperate, it’s two people holding onto each other because it’s all they have. They move quickly, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his lap as she cards her fingers through his hair and when they kiss, they kiss ugly. All tongues and teeth and gasping breaths between. His fingers dig into her hips as she starts to press down onto his growing length. He pulls away, looking into her blown out eyes.

“I want you, Joel.” Afraid of what he might say in reply, he dives back in for her mouth, slowly starting to shift them until he’s laying her out on the bed with his legs slotted between her thighs.

He keeps his weight off her, seeing her slight wince with each movement, not wanting to hurt or overwhelm her. But she pulls him down by his shoulder blades, pressing him against her.

“Please, I just– I need to feel you, please.” He pauses, breathing heavily as he looks into her eyes, just nodding.

“You’ve got me, darlin’. I’m right here.” He shifts a bit closer to her, coming down onto his forearms as he kisses along her jaw, down her neck and across her collarbone. She sighs underneath him.

He feels her hands fumbling at the hem of his shirt and he leans back to shrug it off over his head. What he wasn’t expecting was for her to do the same with her own, and when he’s met with the sight of her bare chest, his breath catches in his throat. She reaches out for him but he’s still frozen in place, taking her in. He lets his hands slide up her sides, fingertips grazing over her nipples in a way that makes her shiver. He murmurs the only word he can think to before meeting her in another kiss.

“Beautiful.”

They press skin to skin now and the feeling, the warmth makes Joel shudder. He feels like he can’t get enough of her, the way she’s running her palms up and down the planes of his back, the little sounds she makes as he kisses her. She takes one of his hands and brings it to the waist of her sweatpants. His fingers halt there as he looks up to her, asking without saying anything, she just nods.

He slips his fingers under the band, skimming down to her folds. He groans at the pooling wetness there. She’s keening into his hand as he strokes her, dipping into her entrance before swirling her arousal around her clit.

“You’re perfect, baby. S’fucking perfect. Does that feel good?” She just nods, gasping his name when his fingers dip inside her again.

“J-Joel, please. Wanna feel you. W-want you inside me.” His head spins at her words and stops what he’s doing, splaying his palm across the soft swell of her stomach.

“Are you sure?”

“I am.” He hangs his head, letting his forehead rest below her sternum, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, making sure this is real.

“Christ, ok. Ok, darlin’. I’ve got you.” He presses up off the bed, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down along with his boxers. He thinks he might melt under her gaze, the way she takes in the sight of him.

He kneels at the end of the bed, bringing his hands to the waistband of her pants, looking up to her one more time, one more confirmation before he gently slides her pants and underwear off her legs. He sighs at the sight of her, bare beneath him, before framing her head with his forearms, laying over her and pressing in for a kiss. He guides the head of his cock through her folds and they both groan at the contact. She draws her knee up to his hip, spreading herself out for him just a bit more.

“You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?” She nods, brushing his hair back away from his eyes before settling her hand on his cheek. He turns his head and lays a kiss in the middle of her palm before he starts to press into her. She gasps and he freezes immediately, but then she keens.

“D-don’t stop, please. Want you to keep going.” He huffs, pressing a bit deeper, taking in the way her back arches into him. Her nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder where she’s wrapped her arm.

Finally, his hips settle against hers, and they both sigh at the feeling of him being fully sheathed in her. Joel’s afraid that if he moves, this will be over before it’s even started. He dips his nose into her neck, smelling the soap Frank gave her to clean up with, but also just smelling her. Her heel digs a little into his low back, he looks up at her.

“You can move, baby.” Joel holds back a whimper at her words. He shifts his hips back, finding a slow roll back into her that has them both moaning. It’s a slow, deep pace they find, pushing and pulling against each other, lips smearing in barely-coherent kisses.

He feels the pleasure pulling tight, ready to snap, but he needs to get her there first. He brings his fingers down, circling her clit a bit harshly. She whines at the contact and he can feel her pulse around him.

“Just let go, baby. I’ve got you. Let go for me, please.” She lets out a broken cry of his name before coming undone, and it’s enough to send Joel over the edge as well, quickly pulling out and painting her stomach with his spend. He’s panting as he leans in for a chaste kiss, pulling back to take in her flushed figure, the softly heaving swells of her body. He whispers that he’ll be right back, moving over to the attached bathroom to find a towel to clean her up with. He sits back on the bed, daubing away the mess he made. She’s smiling softly around a “thank you.”

He passes her her t-shirt to slip back on while he tugs his boxers back up his legs before they both get under the covers, immediately tangling up in each other. There’s nothing to say, it’s unspoken what has just passed between them. Joel knows that from now on, he’s hers, and she’s his.

Her breathing evens out before his, falling asleep in his arms. He lets his palm wander up her shirt, gently skating down her back. He pauses at the gauze bandage that sits at the base of her spine. He had seen what that man had done to her, the letters gruesomely carved into her skin. It made him wish he hadn’t just shot the man, that he had kept him alive to make him suffer, only giving him the mercy of death when he was begging for it.

#joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller one shot #fanfic

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call-sign-shark · 10 months

Text

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary: Six months after being released from prison and cleared of murder charges, you and Arthur are finally getting married. All you have to do now is hope for the wedding day to be spared from some Shelby chaos. Featuring John Shelby x Reader.

Words: 6k

TW: tooth-rotting fluff, light angst, allusions to smut, one ruined wedding cake, Tommy not being a dick for once, otherwise it's a well-deserved soft chapter to start this new act. Let's not break your heart too soon.

Notes:

✞ This chapter is the beginning of Act II of Heaven in Your Eyes. The timeline is S4.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The beating in your heart was so erratic, so fierce, that its constant drumming echoed in your skull and ears as painfully as if someone was smashing your brain with a hammer. You clenched your jaws at the painful bite of the rope the police officer behind you had placed around your neck. The way the noose compressed your windpipe, already giving you a foretaste of what was awaiting you, made the act of breathing laborious. Sucking on a sharp breath, your throat whistled like a dying bird. Down below I go, you thought while nervously playing with the wedding ring Arthur gifted you weeks ago. He had barely made his proposal when policemen snatched you from him and threw you both in jail. With your back straight and your crystal eyes glaring at the officers who were present in this slaughter room, you managed to keep your dignity. They might hang you, but they would not see you cry. In fact, if you went down they would have to watch you, so that your piercing irises would haunt them until, one day, Death would come for them too.

I love you Arthur.

I love you Dad and Mom.

I love you little sister.

I’m so sorry I’ve failed you.

Could you ever forgive me?

Your teeth dug into the flesh of your inner cheek as seconds flew, each bringing you closer to your inevitable end.

“WAIT!!! PLEASE WAIT! ”

A far cry in the distance. Were you dreaming? Or were demons already afraid of you down in Hell?

Officer Kat Wilson’s heart missed a beat when the familiar voice boomed in the warehouse, as loud as a foghorn. The blonde policewoman turned around, eyes filled with hope as she saw the silhouette of Sergeant Moss bathed in the blinding outside light that had rushed into the place when he had opened the warehouse’s heavy doors, “Do not kill her! We’ve just received a new order from the Crown: Heaven Lavey and Polly Gray are proven innocent of the crimes they had been accused of.” He said, forehead glistening with sweat. He had probably run as fast as possible to deliver the news quickly. Kat Wilson felt all of her muscles relax at such an unhoped-for plot twist.

“Take the noose off her neck now.” She ordered, trying his best to sound strict despite Moss standing right here, running out of breath.

Innocent? Take the noose? Sentences were melting in an intelligible treacle because of the emotional roller coaster you were undergoing, hence you only caught a few words. When your mind finally made sense of what was happening, a long sigh came out of your quivering lips. Then, the policeman behind you set your throat free. You blinked several times and looked at Officer Wilson, who replied to your confused gaze with a faint, supportive smile illuminating her usually oh-so-severe traits. Then, she proceeded to free you from the handcuffs that were sinking into the frail flesh of your wrists. As she did, Kat brought her lips near your ear and whispered so only you could hear, “Arthur’s safe. The warrant includes the Shelby family too. I’m sorry for the mess, doll. ”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and glanced at the woman, trying not to let too many emotions show. Not that you wanted to play the tough girl, but you were so overwhelmed by your feelings that you were not even able to let out anything except confusion. It was all… Too much. “You knew they were going to release us.” You stated with a quiet but still slightly shaky voice as the revelation struck you.

“Let’s say I hoped they’d interrupt your death sentence in time.” Her soft yet hoarse voice replied, highlighted with a cunning little something.

Kat Wilson gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before leading you outside the sinister warehouse, unwilling to provide you with further details. And somehow, you did not bother to ask. The only thing you wished for was to run away from this killing floor. Thus you walked bare feet on the gravel ground, the peaky sensation of the tiny stones against your flesh keeping you grounded to reality, andyou stopped in the middle of the yard. There, you threw your head back and closed your eyes, relishing the soft caress of the wind on your face. You breathed a sigh of relief, for the clouds above you had shifted from the sun, whose rays were warming up your frozen skin.

You were alive.

“Heaven!” A woman voice called you.

You reopened your eyes and looked around you, “Oh my God, Polly!” You suddenly exclaimed when you recognized her. Seeing Aunt Polly running to you and almost tackling you in a desperate hug was all it took for your emotions to finally flood you. Tears dawned at the corner of your eyes as you pulled her into a deeper embrace. Polly sobbed in your arms, her body quivering because of her cries.

“I saw them Heaven! I saw the spirits. Oh bloody hell, the spirits…”

“I know Pol,” You tried to comfort her the best you could, your grip tightening around the poor woman in the hope of helping her calm her panic attack. Still, you knew she was shaken to the core by her freshly canceled rendezvous with Mr. Death, “Everything’s fine,” You whispered, and let one of your hands lose itself in her short dark hair, “I hear them too.” You admitted. Polly gradually grew quieter in your arms, running out of tears. Nevertheless, you did not let her go. What you did, though, was to silently thank the policewoman with your gaze, your irises sparkling with genuine gratitude. No matter her role in all this mess, you knew Kat Wilson contributed to setting you free.

You were alive.

Alive, for sure, and indescribably furious.

1925 - Six Months Later

You had been absentmindedly looking at your reflection in the mirror for long minutes when someone knocked at the door and snatched you from your contemplative state. A growl escaped from your lips for you had let everyone know you did not want to be bothered— truth be told, you needed a bit of time alone with you to soothe your anxiety. However, the uninvited guest came in before you allowed him to do so.

“True gentlemen wait to be invited before entering a room, you know? Especially when a lady is in it. ” You said with a faint smirk on your plump and glossy lips as you recognized the guest by the sole fragrances of his cologne.

“A part of me hoped to see you undressed, that’s why I didn’t, little Angel.” The masculine voice answered, its tone filled with tease. You snorted at such a stupid answer, kinda expecting it, and rolled your eyes in amusement.

“Idiot.” You simply retorted, glancing at him through the mirror you were still facing.

“Idiot? That’s it? I’m used to better roast from ya, eh!” John exclaimed, surprised by your lack of wit. He wanted to tease you again you but your sudden silence kept him from doing so. Something was off. Worried, the young Shelby brother frowned a little bit and walked to you, not minding your desire of being alone. You jumped slightly at the sensation of his two large and warm hands squeezing your upper arms, “Oi, Angel.” He gently called, the tenderness in his voice wrapping you in a comforting haze, “Tell me what’s wrong please…”

For sure John Shelby had a soft spot for you since the day Arthur introduced you to the family. No one had ever doubted it. Without the slightest explanation nor apparent reasons, you both immediately grew fond of each other from the moment your eyes met. In truth, your relationship with the Shelby family had been quite tricky for months following the first meeting. Most of them didn’t want you to be a part of the clan, partly due to the witch rumors around you and Arthur’s obsessive love. It was only now, a solid year and one murder later, that everything had started to flow more smoothly with them. Even Esme, who had been terrified of you and would usually avoid you at all costs, had learned to live with your presence in the family. According to Polly, you had deserved your place among them more than any other women the boys brought home. The only threat to this harmony had been and still was Thomas Shelby himself. The mutual resentment you shared for each other was rooted in deep and far too complicated reasons, the most recent one was him selling you to the police for murder charges. However, you came to terms with the idea of maintaining a mutual hatred as long as he did not step between Arthur and you ever again.

So, apart from Tommy and Esme, you were now getting along with everyone. But with John… With John, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced, apart from Arthur. Whenever your man wasn’t there, John would do everything that was in his power to keep you company and bring a smile to your face. Not only he loved to visit you and spent his free time with you, but he truly cared for your well-being. Sometimes he would make a surprise visit to your house. In fact, he would stand there on your porch with the most adorable smile you had ever seen etched on his lips, a basket filled with food in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other. When Arthur and you decided to leave Birmingham, your heart ached at the thought of moving away from John. Following your departure, rumors said John’s eternal smile had not be seen for weeks. However, once you had well adjusted to your new routine, even distance could not shake your unique bond: John never ceased to visit you when he could.

“What’s the matter, little angel?” He inquired, genuinely concerned by your silence and the melancholic gleam in your aquamarine eyes.

“I’m scared John. I’m fucking scared.” You finally admitted, closing your eyelids a few seconds to take a slow inhale. The weight in your chest had vanished from the moment words left your mouth. At such a surprising answer, the young gangster’s grip tightened on your arms and he gently forced you to turn around to face him. Still, you avoided his gaze, fearing judgment.

“It’s your wedding day, Heaven. What are you scared of?” He carefully asked, taking care not to make you think he was mocking or judging you.

“I’m scared because now I’ve got something to lose,” You fell silent for a tiny while, fighting again the desire to remain silent, but you knew you could open up to him, “I have a magnificent house in the forest cradled by the sweet chant of a peaceful stream. I have the loveliest man I could have dreamt of by my side, who loves me to the moon and back. God, I even got a dog!” Another brief pause you took to avoid crying, “And one day there will be one or two kids…” John listened to you carefully, still wondering what the problem was, “If I'm being honest, I’ve never thought I would be allowed to be this happy. At one point in my life, I got used to the idea of dying alone, hunted down by bad memories, and drown by guilt. But, look at me now. Look how far I’ve come… That’s why I’m scared of losing it all. Fuck, John — I’ll die without him.”

To your greatest surprise, the young gangster replied to your lament with soft chuckles, “Heaven. I don’t know what it is between Arthur and you, but I’ve never seen a love fiercer than the one you share. Bloody Hell, you’re so addicted to each other it’s even a bit scary sometimes, not gonna lie eh,” His fingers trapped your chin in one soft movement and, with indescribable tenderness, he raised your head so that he could observe each trait of your angelic face, “Having something to lose makes you cherish what you have even more. Plus it doesn’t mean you’re gonna lose it. “ The corner of his charming lips curled in a sweet smile, “Moreover, there’s more chance for Tommy to like you than for Arthur to leave your side. He’s not gonna let you go… To my greatest sadness.” John winked at you and, despite everything, his last flirty comment managed to make you laugh. Sometimes, you didn’t know how he always succeeded in cheering you up but still he did, “Listen, I knew you’d be a bit nervous for your wedding day, so I got you a little surprise.”

“A surprise?” You asked, curious, wiping away the tiny tears that had formed in the corner of your eyes while being careful not to ruin the stunning siren-eyes makeup Ada did. It would be a shame to have more mascara on your cheek than on your eyelashes the day of your wedding. John walked to the door and put his large hand on the knob, looking at you to maintain a small suspense “I know he’s not supposed to see you before the ceremony but he would not stop crying without you so…” He was about to open the door when he stopped mid-action, “Oh and I’m not talking about Arthur by the way. Even though I’m pretty sure he’s also doing that.”

“Fuck off, John boy.” You poked your tongue out, feeling cheerful and far less anxious thanks to him. He grinned in reply and finally opened the door.

“Oh! This is... So cuuuuute!” You almost squealed, for you were welcomed by the sight of Kaiser, the huge Cane Corso Arthur’s had brought home one night, sitting in front of the door with his mouth open in a big smile and with his drooling tongue hanging, “Come here big boy!” You called him, kneeling on the floor without minding your wedding dress now that your fur baby was here. Kaiser did not need to be asked twice: he walked to you and put his huge head between your frail hands to get his scratches, looking at you with so much love in his hazel eyes you could not resist smooching his wet snout “I can’t believe you’ve put a bow tie to my dog!” You laughed, “Look at this distinguished gentleman... He’s gonna steal all the women!” The massive beast barked loudly as to agree with you. You delicately wrapped your arms around his muscular frame to hug him, the sensation of his fur against your face erasing the last bits of anxiety left in you “Oh you’re the most handsome man of the whole family, baby Kaiser... Yes, you are. ”

His tail wagged. Of course, he was!

“Couldn’t participate in the wedding if he wasn’t all fancy, eh. I've also put a fake mustache on his snout but he ate it so I gave up on the idea,” He shrugged, “I thought it would make you laugh and help you relax.”

“Thank you, John! Thank you so much, you’re lovely I swear.” You said, looking at him with your gaze filled with genuine affection all the while cuddling with Kaiser, who seemed to be in paradise judging by his blissfully happy face.

“So — are you ready?” John finally asked.

“Yes, I am.” You replied, then stood up and took a quick look at your reflection in the mirror to fix your long white mane, which had been styled in wavy and adorned with a few diamonds from there and then, giving your hair an otherworldly shine. As you focused on your hairstyle, John rearranged your dress. At one point, he stopped what he was doing to look at you with a dreamy expression.

“You’re stunning, little angel. Fuckin’ bewitching.” He whispered before shaking his head, “Let’s find your man now, eh. Alright?” You nodded, the butterflies in your stomach flying at the sole mention of Arthur.

“I’m ready but before we go can I ask you a favor, John?”

“Anything.”

“You know, I’d have loved my family to be here. Mom would have been prolly crying during the whole wedding in Dad’s arms while my little sister would have thrown white petals at everyone’s face for fun…” You let out a charming but oh-so-sad chuckle “But no matter how fiercely I’ve prayed for it I know they won’t be there. So I’ve got two choices left: either I walk alone to my husband or I ask someone to accompany me.” You had barely finished your sentence when the celeste blue of your eyes dived into the sky blue of his, “I’d like you to escort me down the aisle, John.”

He remained silent, stricken by surprise at such a touching demand. He had not been expecting it. Words were at loss, however, they were not necessary for you to understand his answer: as the sun rays crossed through the windows and enlightened John’s face, you could see the precious shine of one sole crystal tear running down his cheek.

The powerful sound of the organ resonated in the whole church, the vibrations of its melody resounding in Arthur’s chest and making him tremble from within. He was standing in front of the altar with his manly hands interlocked in front of him. For the occasion, he had bought the most elegant and expensive tailored three-piece suit he had ever owned: he was dressed in all black, except for the white shirt he was wearing under. Moreover, Tommy had put some traditional white flowers in the pocket of his vest, while Polly had slipped an emerald pillar pendant around his neck and hid it under his shirt before he entered the church— a marriage blessing, from what he had understood from Polly’s emotional speech. The woman was so proud of her older nephew she could not help but already weep with joy. Arthur nervously glanced at his brother who was standing by his side, slightly in front of him at his best man’s place. Then, his steel-blue eyes shifted from Tommy and searched for his Aunt, who sat a bit further in the audience beside Ada and Finn. To be honest, Arthur’s anxiety kicked in. The more the second passed, the more the unpleasant impression his heart was about to burst from his chest was overwhelming. Nervously spinning one of his silver rings, he tried to control his nerves the best he could but it was harder than he thought: a part of him, admittedly irrational, was terrified by the possibility of you not showing up.

What if you’ve changed your mind? What if you’ve come to the conclusion you did not want him? What if your wedding did not work out, just like his first one? Maybe the problem hadn’t been Linda but him?

As was always the case when he was panicking, his self-whipping thoughts banged together in his skull like a hive of furious buzzing hornets. Nevertheless, Arthur knew, deep down, that you were soul mates and that there was no actual reason for you to flee. What really helped him to calm down though was taking a deep inhale and focusing on the hundred of candles’ flames that were illuminating the room with tiny dancing flames. A comforting wave of warmth almost immediately wrapped his heart as he did, for this church was the place in which you met for the very first time. He still clearly remembers the fire that had lit in his dying soul at the way your fingers grazed him when you had cleaned the blood off his face with a torn piece of your own dress. Not only had you purified his soiled skin, but then you had allowed him to put his head on your thighs and proceeded to pet his hair all the while lulling his demons to sleep with that enchanting voice of yours. From that night, Arthur made a promise to Almighty God, who had been kind enough to answer his prayers and sent him his most precious Angel. And that promise was that he would marry you in this same place to show God how well he would treat you and how happy you would be with him.

The organ roared louder in the church all of a sudden, causing him to refocus.

You were coming.

The gangster straightened his back, quickly slicked his hair back one last time to look perfect for you, and then stared at the church’s heavy wooden doors with both anxiety and anticipation in his eyes. His blood boiled with impatience, for you had been separated for too long because of the traditional “don’t see the bride before the ceremony” the Shelby women — and John — had insisted to establish. That being said, it had been torture for Arthur, who was aching so much from your absence that he felt almost as bad as when he went through rehab. Hands shaking, cold sweat running down his back, breath hitching, Arthur could definitely not live without you by his side. — you were the most exquisite drug ever created, against which even opium could not even compete.

The doors opened and panic rushed even more brutally into his being. At first, he thought he was about to die from a heart attack, but then, all these negative feelings vanished in dust when his piercing blue irises met your tantalizing silhouette. When you erupted from the almost supernatural light that was surrounding you, Arthur widened his eyes and stopped breathing. Here you were, your seductive body adorned with a graceful Greek goddess-inspired dress whose cut let the pale flesh of your back for the world to see while also forming a graceful and long wedding cape that was cascading down your shoulders. The whiteness of your outfit, equaling the wonderful snow-like color of your hair, was enhanced with gold jewels: armbands and a choker. One look at you was all it took for Arthur to feel the stinging of uncontrollable tears dawning in his eyes, for a tsunami of emotions had crashed in his soul at such a holy sight. As you walked to the altar at John’s arm, the wind blew in the church and made your cape dance behind you. For a few seconds, Arthur was convinced he saw wings in your back. Mighty feathery wings.

Divine. It was the only word that came into his mind when he watched you breaking the distance between you. And the more you approached, the more he was stunned by your ethereal beauty. So stunned he had to keep himself from falling on his knees at your feet, deeming himself unworthy of standing in front of such a pure seraph. Even Tommy, whose resentment for you was a secret to none, found himself in awe at your pulchritude. He, along with the groom, had to blink several times to make sure they were not dreaming.

Your glossy lips stretched in an enamored smile overflowing with emotions when you looked at your future husband: he was so charming in his suit that you fell in love with him for a second time. Your grip tightened around John’s arm for your heartbeat quickened until you finally rejoined Arthur. As soon as you reached him, the tall gangster took you by the hands — yours: small, delicate, and freezing. His: large, calloused, and burning. You dived into each other’s eyes, and the rest of the world disappeared.

“You’re so handsome.” You whispered, causing an adorable pink shade to blossom on your soon-to-be husband’s cheeks.

“C-Come on. Did ye see yer own reflection? Ye took me fookin breath away, Angel.” His hoarse replied.

“Arthur, we’re in a church.” You discreetly snorted.

“Oh Fook. I mean shi— Whatever.” He slightly stuttered. At this moment, it did not matter that he was a grown man in his mid-thirties: he felt like a flustered teenager in front of his first crush all over again. And to be true, so you were — to the point you both did not hear much of what the priest was saying, for you were far too hypnotized by each other’s presence as well as fighting hard against the urge of devouring each other’s lips. The only moment you both came back to your senses was when you had to pronounce your vows.

Then came the final moment.

Arthur Shelby, do you take Heaven Lavey to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and to honor her all the days of your life?

I do. He answered with haste. You trapped your lower lip between your teeth, gathering all your strength to hold your emotions, but the crystal tears in your aquamarine eyes betrayed you.

Arthur Shelby, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

The caress of your fingers along with the cold sensation of the golden ring on his skin sent shivers down his spine. Observing you as you sealed your love by slipping the ring around his finger, Arthur’s smile grew a bit larger and made his teary eyes squint, digging adorable crowfeet at their corners.

You can kiss the bride.

The priest’s last words brought him back to life — that’s what he had been waiting for what seemed to be an eternity. Unable to wait any longer, the gangster brought one hand to your cheek and broke the excruciating distance between your lips until they crashed together under a thunder of applause. The feathery caress of his moustache on your skin mixed with the sensation of his eager mouth warmed you all over. Arthur deepened the kiss by parting his lips slightly so that his tongue could find its way to yours and give it a gentle stroke. But while hungry, the press of his mouth remained chaste. Carried away by his softness, you felt your body flickering in his arms, as fragile as the church’s candle flames.

You were his, he told it to himself. And he was yours. All yours until death tears you apart.

No, fuck that Reaper cunt he thought, even Death would not keep him apart from you.

The hundreds of candles and lanterns that were scattered through all Arrow House’s garden enlightened the night with their warm hue. Shortly before the wedding, the Shelby family suggested hosting the party in Tommy’s Mansion rather than in your place for practical matters. By celebrating your marriage in Arrow House, all the family and, by extension, friends, could reunite together without having to drive for miles. Moreover, the mansion was far bigger than your and Arthur’s house, which made the place far more convenient for partying. For the event, all of Arrow House and its gargantuan garden had been decorated with lights, candles of every kind, white drapes, and flower wreaths that gave the place a supernatural atmosphere. The cheerful cacophony of chatter and music hovered above the garden as the guests were indulging themselves with food, alcohol, and innocent fun. Even Officer Kat Wilson, who had been invited following her implication in your release from prison, spent the whole night partying with the Shelby family. Surprisingly enough, no one dared to disrupt the celebration with illegal activities. Just a few bets here and there. The only incident to declare had been the moment when Arthur, faithful to himself, almost smashed someone’s head in the wedding cake —he got angry when one of the guests looked at your cleavage—. However, if Arthur failed with ruining the cake it had not been Kaiser’s case, who ate half of it by himself.

“Where are Arthur and Heaven? Can’t believe the bride and the groom had disappeared!” Polly asked Tommy and Ada, visibly unhappy. The latter was a bit tipsy judging by the red shade of her cheeks and the glass of champagne in her perfectly manicured hand.

“Last time I’ve seen them they were dancing with flower crowns on their heads,” She hiccoughed, “I nearly died from laughing. Arthur. With a flower crown. It was so sweet and ridiculous!”

“That ain’t fun, Ada. I really need to find those stupid lovebirds. I swear I’m going bonkers: first Arthur’s tantrum, then Kaiser ruining the wedding cake, and now the newlyweds are late for the picture!” She complained. Overall, it had been Aunt Polly who made sure everything ran smoothly, hence her discontentment.

Tommy rolled his eyes at his sister’s inebriation, then he squeezed her shoulder with his large hand, “I think your question will find its answer really soon, Pol.” He stated with his quiet and deep voice as his turquoise eyes caught sight of your silhouette walking toward them, holding Arthur by the hand. You were both exchanging glances and light enamored laughters.

As surprising as it sounded, Thomas Shelby and you had managed to put your mutual hatred aside for the sake of the wedding. Of course, you were carefully avoiding each other the best you could, but when you were together in inevitable family moments, your exchanges remained polite.

Polly turned to you with her eyebrows furrowed and pressed her fists on her hips with an angry- mother expression when you and Arthur joined the small group.

“Ah! There you are! The photographer has been fuming for half an hour! Where have you been?” She scolded.

“We really need a map. This place is a fookin’ maze eh. We got lost.” Arthur tried to justify himself, his fingers firmly intertwined with yours, “I mean I wanted to show her the mansion but hey, I quite forgot which way to go and —“

“Arthur?” Polly cut him.

“Eh?”

“Your fly.” She simply stated. Holding much power, those two tiny words made Arthur almost jump. He let go of your hand in one vivid movement.

“OH FOOKIN HELL!” His gravel voice exclaimed when he looked down at his trousers. He quickly zipped the fly up under Ada’s hysterical laugh and Tommy’s mocking smirk. Admittedly, you could not help but giggle too for his reaction had been quite priceless. Oh Arthur, you thought. The only one who was not laughing was Polly, who looked at him with such a desperate face that you were sure she was about to facepalm herself. Or slap his face, it depended on her mood.

“Men and their cock, I swear. Look at you, idiot,” She said affectionately, “Your hair is all messed up! You’re going to look awful in your wedding pic!” She growled, grabbing her oldest nephew to rearrange both his hair and his tie.

“Don’t be mean Pol, he just needed to release the pressure.” You said, watching the scene with a faint smile on your juicy and glossy lips still swollen from Arthur’s lustful kisses, “The whole speech thing worried him.”

“Mmmpff— true.” He grunted, embarrassed.

“Yeah of course.” The beautiful Ada started before coming to you and smoothing the folds of your goddess dress with a teasing grin “What a long and difficult way to say you just wanted to give him a blowjob.” She teased.

“Piss off Ada.” You gently retorted, rolling your eyes in a fake outraged pout, “let’s take that picture before Polly strangle us all.”

“OI. Everyone fucking gather together for the picture! Bring the damn dog too!” Tommy yelled to the crowd, “John! Made them pose in front of the mansion!” Orders flew and Peaky Blinders were soon taking the crowd in charge to help the photographer take the most perfect picture he could take. When everyone was ready, he pushed the button of his camera and, in a blinding flash, captured the most beautiful moment of your whole life in a picture you would cherish like the apple of your eye.

“We… We really should … Like… At least try to get in bed.” You giggled, your cheeks still adorned with a pink blush. Admittedly, talking had become quite a challenge after the second bottle of wine.

“Not gonna lie, love, I can’t fookin’ get up for the life of me.” Arthur pulled you closer against his bare chest and slipped one hand into your messy long hair, not willing to move. The tenderness of his caresses made your whole body relax and you melted in the warmth of his freckled skin. To hell with the bed, you thought, the floor would do the trick.

When the party had come to an end, Arthur had carried you bridal-style to one of the mansion’s magnificent bedrooms, despite being completely drunk. The whole walk had been tedious with poor Arthur staggering in the stairway, but you could not have cared less — you were as wasted as he was and could not walk anymore. Maybe the alcohol contest with Kat and Uncle Charlie had not been such a great idea after all… Once you reached the bedroom, Arthur and you collapsed on the large fur rug that was on the wooden floor and clumsily took off each other’s clothes between heated kisses and steamy moans. He had impatiently waited for the wedding night, calling you “Mrs. Shelby” and “me lovely wife” all the way. That being said, a few intoxicated chuckles had embellished the symphony of your love when alcohol made one of you missed the other’s lips. No one could tell how many hours went by nor how many times you made love — Not even you. You were only coming back to your senses now that you were both snuggling naked on the floor, your legs entangled and your mind still clouded with your latest orgasm.

“I don’t want this wonderful day to end,” Arthur said, his gruff voice finally breaking the comfortable and peaceful silence that had settled in the room. A slow and long exhale escaped from your nostrils at his words before you laid lazy kisses on his chest. Your lips, still hungry for him despite your drowsiness, trailed up until they reached the golden cross pendant he was always wearing. A shiver ran down his spine when you took it between your full lips and looked up to his eyes through your Bambi lashes, “Fook — you make me so… Happy.”

“And I’ll do my best to keep you happy every day of your life.” You replied after a little while, setting the pendant free from your tantalizing mouth. “That was a pretty successful day.”

“It was, eh.” Arthur softly smiled at your words, his piercing blue eyes enjoying your mesmerizing beauty and his long fingers gently massaging your scalp, “We got a letter and a bouquet from Mrs. Solomons, y’know. She wanted to come but her husband’s back was hurting too much. ”

“Oh yes? Rosie is a sweetheart.”

“And her husband’s a cunt.” He growled, “Bloody bastard.”

“I know right? But she’s great. She’s been teaching me so many interesting things about feminism! Really made me want to attend her next meeting!”

“Women… You’re all going to overpower us one day.” Arthur said, his voice tinted with amusement. His free hand quickly grabbed the bottle of whisky that was next to him and took a mouthful of alcohol.

“It would not be a bad thing,” You pressed a kiss against his chin and he hummed in response, delighted by the way you showered him with tenderness. Arthur would have been purring under your touch if he had been able to do so. It just felt good — so good the whole world could have gone down in flames he wouldn’t mind as long as you kept pampering him like you were doing. You made him feel loved. You made him feel at peace… And God knows how much he needed that. “Especially for Michael. Have you seen his girlfriend Nora? She looked exhausted.”

“She just gave birth to her second child. Of course, she’s exhausted, love.” He said. His hand, which had been playing with your hair until then, slowly ran down your naked back.

“Hm.” That was all you replied, for you felt Michael’s girl was more than just physically exhausted. Something was definitely off in their relationship, but you did not want to mingle. “Their daughter is lovely, though.”

“She is.”

Another silence fell in the bedroom, only embellished by the relaxing cracking of the woods burning in the hearth. Both of you had closed your eyes, slowly drifting away into Morpheus’ kingdom.

“Angel?” He called you with a sleepy voice.

“Yes, Arthur?” You answered, dozing off.

“ I’d love to have kids with ye, eh. Little white-haired and blue-eyed us running barefoot in the forest… Little embodiments of our love brightening our life.” His voice was merely a whisper now for he was slowly falling asleep, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad… but thought I was too messed up for that.”

“You aren’t.” You smiled and let your fingers lazily graze his skin, your nails crossing through his chest hairs and ending their race on his heart, right where his tattoo was “I want it too Arthur. I want it too.”

Sleep made the last word of your sentence die on your lips. Now, the hullabaloo of the party was no more. All the remaining noises were the harmonious murmurs of your slow breathings and the lullaby sung by the fire, which had never been so comforting.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

✞ Tag list: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms

✞ Nora Gray belongs to @amidst-wonderland || Rose Solomons belongs to @raincoffeeandfandoms || Kat Wilson belongs to my sweet partner @callme-fox

✞ Each chapter of this series can be read as stand-alone even though it's far more enjoyable if you have read at least the previous chapter.

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